


again, at the beginning

by Anonymous



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tenderness, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29819700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A reunion.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64
Collections: Anonymous





	again, at the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by that one line from TSoA.

Zagreus’ cheers echo behind Achilles as he shifts away from his post. “Go to him,” the lad says. “You’ve waited long enough.”

Achilles sees the towering pillars and glittering sconces of the House blur before his vision, closes his eyes as piercing light and gushing wind whip against his skin. He allows Zagreus’ instructions to spirit him away, towards his destination, wills his not-beating heart to stop thundering in his chest.

And then there is silence.

And then there he is.

The path that leads to Patroclus is terrifyingly short, and Achilles realizes too late that there are a million different things he wants to say and no articulate way to start. The voices in his head grow louder, contradictory, afraid. He wants to say: I’m sorry. He wants to say: I don’t deserve you. He wants to say: Thank you for waiting for me.

Beside them, the Lethe wisps listlessly, calm and patient. Achilles cannot, does not find the courage to speak.

_(Fear is for the weak. Fear is for the weak. Fear is for the weak)._

He doesn’t register how the blades of Elysian grass rustle under his feet, doesn’t realize that his body has instinctively closed the distance between him and his beloved — at least, not until Patroclus stops murmuring and looks him in the eye, smiles and whispers his name.

“Achilles.”

Achilles hesitates for a moment longer, but finally _finally_ lets his apprehensions go.

They fall into each other’s arms and Achilles wastes no time in reacquainting himself with Patroclus’ touch, his voice, his warmth. This close, he can see the old scar that runs across Patroclus’ left cheek, just above his beard, can smell the familiar musk of his skin. In return, Patroclus holds him close and fierce and tight, kisses him with hunger and longing and love. Patroclus’ mouth is soft and sweet, just as he remembers. He laughs and Achilles’ heart soars.

“You came,” Patroclus says when they part, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “I’d ask what took you so long but that doesn't really matter anymore, does it?”

Achilles reaches out to wipe away his beloved’s tears.

“Pat, I…” he stammers, nervous and tongue-tied once again. He has spent eternity thinking about all the elaborate explanations, all the things he’d say to Patroclus if they ever met again, but now that they’re here, he tearfully blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I am sorry.”

_(For thinking only of myself, for not listening, for being a coward, for making you wait, for still wanting you despite everything)._

”I am sorry,” he says over and over. He also says: “I don’t deserve you.” He also says: “Thank you for waiting for me.”

Patroclus shushes him just as he did whenever Achilles’ emotions got the best of him when they were still flesh and blood. He clutches Achilles closer, rests his forehead against the curve of Achilles’ neck. “There is nothing to forgive.”

For a moment, Achilles considers arguing his point — he knows Patroclus has many things (and more and more and more) to forgive. He has a thousand more things he wants to apologize for, but in the end, he decides to let go. Patroclus has made it clear that he wants him here, and he cannot and will not deny him of anything ever again.

“Thank you,” he says again, because he truly is beyond grateful to be given another chance despite his sins and mistakes and regrets.

“You should be,” Patroclus says. He is smiling now, the corner of his eyes crinkling in delight. “Because I will not allow you to be separated from me again.”

“How reassuring.” Achilles laughs, giddy yet tentative still. He is certain that Patroclus means every word. He always does. He wonders how he ever managed to exist without Patroclus by his side.

_(“That doesn't really matter anymore, does it?”)_

Patroclus’ expression softens at his response. With a steady hand, he traces his fingers over the creases between Achilles’ eyebrows, willing them to disappear. Gently, he cups Achilles face, rains kisses on his tear-stained cheeks, grazes a quick kiss on his lips. “I missed you, my love.”

“I could say the same.” 

“Well.” Patroclus pulls him into his lap, trails his mouth down to the column of Achilles’ slender throat, smiles against his skin. “Shall we make up for all the time we’ve lost, then?”

“Yes,” Achilles whispers, his heart full and bursting with joy. “Yes, we’ve waited long enough.”

They begin.


End file.
